


Hanahaki

by OberonsEarring



Category: X-Men (Comicverse)
Genre: Hanahaki Disease, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-25
Updated: 2019-07-25
Packaged: 2020-07-19 18:21:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19978474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OberonsEarring/pseuds/OberonsEarring
Summary: Scott must make a decision





	Hanahaki

**Author's Note:**

  * For [talkativefangirl13](https://archiveofourown.org/users/talkativefangirl13/gifts).



> I was really intrigued with talkativefangirl13's most recent artwork and her explanation of Hanahaki disease, so I thought I'd try to write a story. I hope it works.

His chest hurt. That's all he could think about in the moment. The inability to breathe, to draw breath.   
Logan said he smelled like flowers as he passed out in the feral mutant's arms. “Roses,” he said, during the small break from the myriad of tests Hank was performing on him. “You smelled like roses.”

There was nothing ever so dangerous as a beautiful rose. So perfect, so enchanting. A breath of sweet smelling air. Something to cherish.

“I'm fine,” Scott tells them both as X-rays are taken and MRI's. 

“There's a spot in your lung, Scott.”

“Mutants don't get cancer,” he reminded his friend. “It's been proven.”

But Hank was not amused. A spot was a spot. It could be a tumor, cancerous cells, something unseen and unheard of, but Scott was not in the mood to entertain such notions. There were missions yet to be dealt with. Enemies still to be defeated. A Logan to make smile. “I'm fine, Hank. I just overdid it in the Danger Room.”

At night, he could taste it. The subtle hint of rose upon his breath. Sweet, alkaline. The rush of greenery and the pain of thorns. It was red when it came out, the petal. Soft and red with a stem of thorns. “I don't love him,” he tells himself as he hacks up another leaf. “I could never love him.” But, of course, he knew that he was lying.

Yes, he loved Jean Grey. That beautiful person who meant everything to him. But, she had to have known. The passion, the fullness of his emotion. The brightness, the fear. Every time he looked at him, every time he spoke to him, his heart gave out, made him weak at the knees, made his head spin.

The scent of him – aftershave and gel... musky scents, made for men. No waterlily like Jean kept in their shower or vanilla. It was spruce and mesquite. Harder scents. The scent of the outdoors.

“I'll take over your classes,” Wolverine offered. “I'm not great at math, but I can pick up on it.”

“I'm fine, Logan. I can teach my own classes.”

In the evenings, he would dream of him. The way his hand slid down his body. The way his lips fell upon his cheek and hip bones. In those dreams, there was nothing outside of their communion. Nothing save pleasure and safe keeping. Not even Jean could tell that his lust had changed, that his eyes had changed. And, that brought on the guilt. That he should be thinking of her. That she should be the object of his dreams. But, morning or night, sunshine or moonlit, his thoughts constantly diverted to the one man that would never love him back.

It was a Wednesday when he went back to Hank. The pain in his lungs severe, hard of breath, hard of pulse. “There's something wrong with me,” he explained, turning blue with the admission. Another MRI and the revelation of multiple spots within the lungs.

“I'd like to do an exploratory surgery,” Beast explained. “I'd like to find out what this is.”

“You mean you want to cut me open?”

“Indeed I would. This may not be cancer, Scott, especially with its quick progression. It may be something else.”

Beside her, he slept. Her soft breath warm and her body warmer. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders, pulled her close, and imagined that she were someone else. “I love you,” he whispered, eyes closed behind goggles and breath heavy. He wondered if she knew it was a lie. 

In the morning, Logan sat with him at breakfast, commented on his pallid appearance, his sluggish moves, that he was worried about the other man. “You should take the day off,” he said, a warm hand upon Scott's shoulders. “Let me pick up the slack.”

“I'm fine,” Summers replied. “Just a little under the weather.

As Jean sat down, the conversation turned to the beautiful morning and the picnic on the front lawn later on in the afternoon. How they would divide up the kids for their team sports, the medals that they would award to those in the limelight of winning. “I'm worried that it will make some of the kids very sad,” Jean said. All empathy and sympathy, she shook her head, disagreeing with the idea.

“It'll give them something to strive for,” Logan answered. “Give them a goal.”

“To win a sack race? That's what you'd give them as a goal?”

“To practice harder. To be better. What do you think, Scott?” He slaps the younger mutant on the shoulder, and Scott erupts into a coughing fit, a trickle of blood at the corner of his mouth. “That's it,” Logan scolds. “I'm taking you back to your room.”

“I'm fine, Logan. I promise. I'm fine.”

“That doesn't look fine,” he says, taking note of Scott's troubled breath. “I'm taking your classes today no matter how much you argue.” He pulled Cyclops up by the arm, and walked him across the cafeteria. “You don't always have to play the tough guy, you know?”

“That's ironic coming from you,” Scott wheezed. 

“I'm serious, Slim. It's okay to let others help you.”

Collapsed upon the bed, Scott drew in a deep, painful breath – a breath so jagged that he feared his lungs were being torn to shreds. Logan sat beside him, a cold cloth over his head and a soothing hand intertwined in his fingers. He hummed a soft tune as his thumb stroked over knuckles, and Cyke's heart twisted just a little more. He loved this man. More than he could ever imagine, but Logan... Logan would never love him back.

Jean entered the room, Hank in tow, and another coughing fit ensues. Deep red petals break away from the masses in his lungs, drift in the air settling upon the floor. Scott clutched at his chest, letting the blood drip from the corner of his mouth and onto the pristine white blanket. 

“I need to talk to Scott alone,” Hank said. He'd been researching this condition for months now, ever since Scott complained of chest pain. “It's Logan, isn't it?” Hank asked once the others had left.

“What do you mean?” Scott finally managed.

“You're in love with Logan.” 

Behind red lenses, Beast was sure that there were tears. Cheeks flushed with embarrassment, Scott looked down at the floor, speechless for long moments. “It's a phase. It will pass.”

“No, this isn't a phase, and it's not something that will pass. You're dying, Scott. You need to tell him.”

“He doesn't love me. If I know anything, it's that.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“Because he's in love with my wife.”

It wasn't not a secret that Logan yearned for Jean Grey for years, nor that she found the shorter mutant attractive. It was Scott that kept them apart, and now he was dying for it. 

“I can heal you, Scott, but with one caveat.”

“What's that?”

“You'll forget who Logan is, what he means to you, the love that you never shared.” Cyclops clutched at his chest again, coughing up petals and blood all over the floor. The thorns, they ripped at him; the petals they suffocated him. “I think it best that you decide quickly. The options are simple if you think about it: die or give him up. You don't have much longer.”

Beast reminded him that he would always have Jean, that she loved him as she always did. “You won't be alone, Scotty. Just less burdened by a love that will never be requited.”

“I don't want to forget him, Hank.”

“Then you'll die.” He promised to keep this from Jean, that no one would ever know of this. “A surgery is a surgery. No one will question it; no one will question me. We can do it today, and you'll never know the difference.”

“My heart will know.”

“Your heart will be filled with Jean. This is your only way out, Scott. But, it has to be your choice.”

“To live is to lose Logan forever?” Beast nodded his answer. 

“We need you, Scott. The team does, the mutants do. So, please make the right decision.”

Jean and Logan waited outside the med lab, hunched along the walls waiting for news. The surgery started eight hours ago, and thus far there had been no word on whether Scott was okay or not. The silence between them had gone on too long. “He loves you, you know?” Jean spoke, her voice even, if a bit melancholy. 

Logan looked up at her, shocked that she would say such a thing. “No, it's you that he's in love with.”

“A little,” she smiled. “But it's you he dreams about.”

Biting his lower lip in thought, Logan looked up to the ceiling and took a deep breath. “He'll never leave you,” he said. “He will never hurt you like that.”

“It's hard for him to admit how he feels. You should talk to him after the surgery.”

“About what?”

“That I don't mind. As long as a little piece of him still loves me, I don't mind him loving you, too.”


End file.
